


Giving Up

by amelialourdes



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Canon, Future
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-04-30
Updated: 2008-04-30
Packaged: 2018-12-26 18:37:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12064740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amelialourdes/pseuds/amelialourdes
Summary: Justin considers what it'll be like if he gives up the relationship that he has with Brian.





	Giving Up

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

  
Author's notes: This is just something that I came up with late one night and it turned into this so, enjoy it!   


* * *

There are times when I just feel like giving up on us.

It isn’t the way that I felt when I started seeing Ethan. That time it had been naiveté on my part. I had been under the impression that I’d needed romantic gestures and declarations of love. The more that I received it from Ethan, the more I began to appreciate the subtle ways that Brian expressed his love for me. Ethan never really gave me what I was looking for. I cared about him but I wasn’t in love with him.

That was then and it’s several years later now that I’m beginning to feel that same anxiety. This time it isn’t about the flowers or romantic gestures. Brian still doesn’t reply with an ‘I love you’ every time that I say it to him. But every time that he leaves a mug of coffee just the way that I like it on the kitchen counter, I hear those words. Every time that his fingers curl into my hair after we have sex, I hear it. When we’re in public and he pulls me close to whisper something to me that makes me laugh, I see it in his eyes as he looks at me. No, this isn’t a question of love.

Maybe I am still looking for a little bit more. Being in a relationship with Brian means that I’m going to give and he’s going to take. Then, I’m going to give a little more and he’s going to keep taking. Finally, he gives back a little and I lap it up and forget about those two other times where I’ve given more to him than he’s given to me. At times it isn’t fair. I can tell him about my entire day and he gives me a six word sentence reply complete with sarcastic comments. After all these years those comments have been more enduring than endearing. I should be used to that classic Brian behavior, right? Wrong.

I tire of hearing the same jokes over and over again. I glare at him every time that he doesn’t give me a straight answer to a question I ask him. What does he do instead? He just smirks at me. He knows that that’s enough to get me to feel so agitated that I walk away from him. The other day I asked him what he wanted to eat for dinner and he said, “Your ass.” When someone hits forty aren’t they supposed to quit those types of comments? I guess Brian’s never really been the type to stay away from those jokes. After all this time he still smirks after a joke like that.

Then again, what did I say to him once? Didn’t I say that I was the most mature person he knows? And I was eighteen at the time. Now in my twenties I’m still more mature than him. Okay, so his immaturity is to be expected. I can’t fault him for it after living with it all this time. I usually have a quick retort ready for him anyway. I actually like that we can banter back and forth like a well-played tennis match. Everyone tells us that we have some kind of secret language. I don’t see it but apparently others do.

The more I think about this, the more in common I have with Brian. We can both be kids at heart and adults when we sit down to dinner together after a long day. It’s not all bad that he doesn’t say much after I talk to him about a tough day with some new materials I’m working with. What he does say to me, I value. He usually compliments my work when it’s completed. It isn’t just because we’re partners but because he genuinely likes it. He’d never say that he liked something when he didn’t. That’s not his style. He is a man of few words but when he speaks, everyone has a tendency to listen.

He’s generous with his time. He’s been more of a father figure to Gus than he ever has been before. He attends his school performances and while he pretends to dislike being “dragged away”, the moment that he eyes Gus on the small stage, he immediately lights up. Sometimes he’ll slip his hand into mine, squeezing it in anticipation as Gus spoke a line or sang or moved.

He’s still best friends with Michael and Lindsay. When the relocation to Canada didn’t work out, he offered to pay for the moving expenses back to Pittsburgh. He said he did it to save money on airline tickets but he wanted them all back as much as everyone did. When the lease on Michael’s store ran out, instead of selling another limited edition comic, Brian just loaned him the money to pay back when “Rage finally makes its way to the big screen”.

I am shaken from these thoughts when the man I’m questioning slides his arms around my waist to pull me back against him. He presses a kiss to my neck and one against my hair. Moments like these, I forget my previous thought. I forget everything but this. This is what’s important. This is what matters. It’s the moment that matters.

“You’re awfully quiet today,” he observes, not yet loosening his hold of me.

“Just being a little introspective.”

“Uh oh.” I laugh when I hear that. “When you’re through riding the thinking train I have something else you may want to ride in the bedroom.” I roll my eyes, playfully swatting his arm.

Before he leaves to go to the bedroom, he moves in front of me, and gently leans in to press a sweet kiss to my lips. Moments like these are commonplace between us. No words, just a touch, and I’m already falling into it. “I’ll be right there,” I say to him as he pulls away.

With a slap to my ass, he leaves.

There are times when I feel like giving up on us.

Then, I remind myself of all the wonderful, annoying, amazing, aggravating, spectacular things that I both love and hate about Brian Kinney.

Giving up becomes the last thing that I would ever do.  



End file.
